Chapter 38 Mona #2
Deidre’s eyes burn with fury. “Who do you think started that crusade? I’m the one that convinced generations of witches that having children diluted their magic.
” Her voice falls to a ragged hiss. “You have no idea what it’s like—a century living with this hollow ache, no one to shape in my image, no one who belongs to me, no legacy!
” Her heel cracks against the concrete. “Lovers betray you. But a child, blood of your blood—” her voice breaks, thick with yearning.
“Someone to have and to hold. Someone that is yours alone. Someone who will love you unconditionally.”
I look at the group gathered around, beside her sister Tracy.
A faint familial scent links them. Distant, maybe, but related nonetheless.
An entire bloodline. I hadn't noticed before. Together, they orchestrated the gradual extinction of their kind over generations, all because they couldn’t bear the consequences of selling their future bloodlines for power. And for what? To what end?
What is the point of all that power if you’re still alone and miserable in the end?
None of the witches will meet my eyes, but it isn’t out of shame or guilt. It’s a desperate, all-consuming obsession that’s rendered them blind to everything but breaking this self-inflicted curse.
“So, what, if you couldn’t have children, no one could?”
She snarls. “I discovered a way to restore our fertility. I waited a long time for a shifter born with this much Moon Goddess magic inside her. We are both children of the divine, you see. And what’s yours is mine.”
I can feel the spell working. Like my uterus is detaching, deteriorating.
She called it a consumption spell. Will they eat it then?
My body knows what’s being stolen before my mind can even process it.
A future I hadn’t yet chosen. I get flashes of Grayson, Orion, and Silas.
I think of the pictures of them on the walls back in our cabin.
All of them growing up together in Silent Peak.
Tears stream silently down my face while Ghost’s hands work frantically in the air, weaving protective magic around us. The ward flickers—strong, but the witches outnumber us, and my blood gives them an unbreakable connection to me.
Suddenly recoiling, Deidre’s features twist with revulsion.
“Birth control?" she spits. “You expect me to feel bad for you when you don’t even respect what you have, desecrating what we would die for? Why would I spare you? You don’t deserve it!” Deidre’s scream explodes out of her, piercing the air as the witches accelerate their chanting, faster, louder, all of it swelling like a gathering storm.
I clutch my abdomen, nails digging into my skin as though I could physically hold my organs in place. Hot tears scorch paths down my face.
She stands there, sermonizing about sacred life, while her magic tears into me, deciding what happens to my body without my consent. My stomach heaves with disgust.
Ghost kneels low to protect me, using his body as a shield while trying to strengthen his ward.
He throws magic at Deidre, but it bounces off her while the other witches continue to chant.
A sudden burst of sickly green light erupts from Deidre’s fingertips, catching Ghost square in the chest. He flies backward, the weak shield dropping with him.
The pain inside me twists deeper. My omega wails.
na?chno? mde??a? hers mde??a? t?ach mine
na?chno? mde??a? hers mde??a? t?ach mine
And then I feel them.
Through the bond first, then—chocolate and hazelnut.
It’s like the clouds are parting. Orion shouts my name, I hear it over the chanting—he rushes toward me.
I can’t move, I’m scared to move, the pain is throbbing, yawning deeper when I try to uncurl my body, but it’s the fear of loss more than anything.
I scent Grayson and Silas next, and then Kendrick. Orion lifts me gently, pulling me away from the witches, allowing Ghost to focus on fighting back.
Cradled against his chest as he runs, and I watch Kendrick stride across the grated catwalk to where Andrea and Sam struggle with the wall of silver bars. His fingers curl around the metal, and with a single, effortless motion, he tears the entire structure free, as if it were nothing.
The massive black wolves—Grayson and Silas—lunge into the crowd of witches, fangs bared and claws slashing alongside Ghost. Three witches turn their attention on Ghost, while the rest, at Tracy’s lead, attack the wolves.
A witch screams a curse that sends Silas flying backward, but he twists mid-air, landing on his paws before charging again.
Blood sprays as Grayson tears out a throat, but more witches emerge from the shadows.
Half of them turn on me and Orion, and he lets out a roar, but Kendrick moves with deadly precision, slicing through them like paper dolls on his way over to us.
The chanting falters, then dies as witch after witch falls, but through the haze of pain I glimpse Deidre retreating behind what looks like shimmering air, disappearing deeper into the shadows of the silo.
The pain is subsiding, but I don’t know, I can’t feel—
I should be helping, but I'm frozen. Ghost shouts, “Orion, get her out of here. Kendrick and I will clear the space, and I’ll tear down this barrier. No witch left alive. Grayson, Silas!” he yells a little louder, though it’s unnecessary.
Or maybe it is with the mess they’re making. “Be ready to get the priestess.”
Silas snarls, dashing toward the barrier. Orion’s warm arms encircle me, holding me close. Andrea frantically checks the other cells just to be sure we didn’t leave any shifters behind, while Sam holds Ingrid, carrying her to the elevator.
Grayson shifts from wolf to human in mid-leap as he bounds over to me. Storming closer, his green eyes glow in the dark underground. His unkempt hair hangs long, and he leans in, grips my chin, and kisses me hard.
I sob into him, savoring, nearly sucking in his breath, teeth scratching lips like I need to consume him.
His massive hand cradles the side of my face. “My sweet mate. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Be a good girl and let Orion take care of you, okay, honey?”
I nod without argument. Maybe that worries him more than not, because his eyes grow tight. “I love you, Mona. I’ll see you shortly.” He looks to Orion, nods once, then turns and glances in the direction Silas disappeared. Swearing, he takes off, shifting back to his wolf mid-leap. He’s so fast.
I told you. Perfect mates, Beep states.
I snort. Orion doesn’t wait a moment longer. He holds me close and runs down the metal grate, rattling and shaking as we go. He doesn’t let go when we enter the tiny, creaking elevator, with Ingrid and Sam packed in with us, or when we emerge above ground.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d been down there. A few hours at least. It’s still fully dark out.
And what I see makes me want to burst into tears. More tears, because apparently that’s my entire identity now.
They’re here. All of them.
“They shifted and ran to the edge of her ward, after the witches let them go,” Orion explains. “After they caught up with us, they came back. For you.”
All the missing shifters. Ratty clothes, some naked, all filthy. Diya rushes over and wraps her arms around my head, squeezing me into her chest.
“It was you. The whole time, I heard you. We heard you, we knew you were coming. Thank you,” she cries into my shoulder.
I try to hug her back but Orion shifts me in his arms and steps away.
I meet her eyes. “I’m sorry. We should have moved faster. Come sooner.” My eyes flick to her belly and her eyes water in understanding.
She squares her shoulders. “We’ve already lost too much. Let’s not lose another second thinking about what they’ve done.”
Time blurs as Orion carries me to the SUV, my body limp against his chest. My teeth chatter uncontrollably, and despite the warmth of his embrace, a bone-deep chill has settled into me. Each breath feels shallow, insufficient, like I’m trying to inhale through a wet cloth.
He purrs and it rattles against me, stirring something loose inside me that won’t quite break free.
We made it. We survived. That should count for something.
But I don’t feel any better. Something gnaws at me, and the hollow ache remains.